Finding God

The world, devoid of hope, ripe with aches of every kind. All the afflictions for a growing child; body, soul, and mind. Rich in anger, derived from pain. Not knowing of a soul-cleansing rain. Where, O God, in my greatest time of need, Were you that you could not spare me? How, O God, and for what misdeed, Was I to be punished so harshly? Whilst in my room, wherein light had died, Lay I, to bleed; to writhe, teary-eyed. In this dungeon of mine, in its deepest recesses, I was found and was taken into divine caresses. I found that for which I had not sought And was given a hope I had long since forgot. In all the trials and tortures of life, this one thing is true: My God, despite my abandonment, I was found by You.